A Meditation on Cold - March 25 2024

 

A Meditation on Cold

March 25 2024

It’s that damp cold

that goes down to the marrow

and lodges there.

Sends short sharp spasms

of shivers up your back

and into your neck;

which you don’t notice tensing up

until you’re finally inside

and mercifully warm.

The chilly end-of-winter weather

as it shoulders into spring,

rather than the deep freeze

of blue sky days

when the cold feels clean

and briskly invigorates.

Or have I gotten too old?

Could this be frailty,

and not that cutting wind

seasonal change?

Has my body betrayed me,

my mind lost its grit?

I dress in layers

and cover my face,

wear mitts

big enough to box in.

Console myself

by thinking of summer;

its stifling heat

blood-sucking bugs

sultry mugginess,

its clammy skin and sticky thighs,

July's

sweaty underwear.

Then think of cold

as purification.

Adversity

building fortitude.

And toughness

over comfort

with resiliency as prize.

And because heat addles the mind

and thins the blood,

think of hard stoic northerners

over hot-house flowers

grown under glass.

Of winter

as an existential test;

a reminder

of the fine line

between the living and the dead.